Porcelain Dolls
by girlinterrupted12
Summary: During the 1989 revolution of grunge music, sexuality and diversity Kurt is a high class cross-dressing escort, living in the finest apartments and dining with the social elite. One night he stumbles upon Blaine, a broken homeless man who turns out to be the son of a famous Politician struggling with demons of his own. Some Kurbastian and Klaine! Dark fic Please read with caution.
1. September 3rd, 1989

**Warning: This fic contains violence, sexually suggestive themes, homosexuality, cross-dressing, bisexuality, graphic violence, drugs, prostitution, homelessness and transexuality.**

**Please read with caution.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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_Porcelain Dolls_

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_September 3__rd__, 1989_

Being a porcelain doll did have its perks.

People enjoyed admiring them from afar. They seemed to be held with such delicacy, as if they'd shatter in your hands. They were pure; a timeless beauty. However, Kurt was none of those things. He was everything _but;_ contaminated and blemish by the malevolent world he lived in, yet his face held all the innocence of this world, which was quiet deceiving to most people.

_S_hifting uncomfortably in the leather seat, Kurt wondered how long this was going to take.

He turned towards the window to watch the scenery breeze past him. It was surreal to think of how much his life had changed since that night, like something out of a utopian dream, but he didn't know if he should follow the white rabbit down the hole. Not that he would ever do that, but just the whole Alice in Wonderland concept; he felt like he was a goddamn fish out of water.

Flicking his long brown hair over his shoulder he pulled out his compact mirror and checked his make up for the third time that night, out of his small white D&G purse he pulled out some pink lip stick, blush and mascara and applied more to his already flawlessly face. Makeup was an art that Kurt didn't take lightly. Since he was already shaking with nerves, he wanted everything to be prefect.

In reality Kurt was a low down dirty, street walking, at times cross-dressing hustler.

He had done everything imaginable and had everything unimaginable done to him. Not because he was a clichéd runaway with nowhere to go or because he was abused by his father; none of those things had anything to do with why he was a prostitute. On the rare occasion in which he did think about the _why_ aspect of it, he reasoned the catalyst was his father's medical bills.

He just couldn't afford them, on top of trying to keep up with the mortgage on the house, buying food, paying for school and keeping up the family business. Since Burt's health had deteriorated, he had lost almost everything; they were ruined. All they had was a dingy apartment building, hardly big enough for two people, and after Burt's last heart attack that had put him in the hospital, Kurt became desperate.

Word the on the street was that only the best hustlers were being collected to work for a secrete agency. Nobody knew who the employers were, and Kurt thought it was all just some crazy myth, but one night he was approached by a man in a suit claiming he had been recruited and that if he wanted to get out of this dump he should take the offer.

And he did it without any hesitation.

If there was one thing about his deal with Karofsky, it was that the man knew how to treat his employees. This was way better than standing around street corners waiting for some John to pick him up and take him God knows where. At least now his appoints were set up through Karofsky and he knew that they were all checked for criminal records and cleared.

Straightening his red satin dress, Kurt nearly sighed when it had showed up at his apartment door with a note on it saying '_wear me'._ He chuckled and then marvelled at the way it was cut; lengthy, the fabric so incredibly soft caressing his skin, and when he tried it one it dipped low, in a V down his back. The lingerie he was wearing wasn't bad either and Kurt loved dressing in drag with such luxurious clothing. As the driver turned down a street to one of the most expensive apartment buildings in New York City, he gazed up at the skyscrapers in awe. They all looked so unbelievably magnificent that he wouldn't even dream about entering wearing rags.

Breathing in deeply, he tried to calm his nerves. Now wasn't the time to get cold feet; at least not on his first night on the job. Lots of people were counting on him so he rolled his shoulders, trying to maintain an air of confidence.

"Ms. Elizabeth?" The driver said. "We're here,"

"Thank you, Charles," He replied airily.

The shofar got out of the car and opened the door for him. Grabbing his outstretched hand, Kurt stepped out of the car elegantly, letting his long snowy leg slip through the slit on the lengthy red dress so that he could stand properly. When he stood, he smoothed out the silk dress and patted down his extensive brown shoulder length hair.

"I'll pick you up at tomorrow nine am sharp," Charles said with a kind smile.

He threw him a smirk and holding his purse under his arm he strutted confidently into the building. Getting on the elevator he checked his phone for the millionth time to be sure what room number and floor he was supposed to be going to. All too soon the elevator dinged, signaling his destination and he stepped out, heels clicking against the ground. He found the room and knocked quietly. Swallowing hard, he waited for the man to answer. He could hear muffled noises coming from the other side. When the door swung open, Kurt was looking down at the floor studying the intricate pattern on the carpet while his heart raced in his chest.

"Elizabeth…?" asked a deep voice.

Slowly rising his head, he nodded, smiling bashfully.

A tall man with chestnut brown hair, the most _fucking_ unique blue-green eyes that were even smiling at him, though his lips were not, and tanned skin covering what Kurt suspected was a firm body— wide shoulders that led to trim waist and slim hips.

"Pleasure," Kurt said, sticking out his hand.

Without hesitation the man took it, placing a tiny kiss on his gloved hand. "Charmed,"

Dressed in a plain dress shirt opened at the collar and black dress pants, he eluded wealth and confidence.

"Please, come in," he said, standing on the side and gesturing Kurt to pass him. Looking around the room, he saw a large candle holder on a table, as well as a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket.

Both could be used as a weapon if needed to be.

Kurt walked into the room with his head up, letting his eyes wander briefly before standing in the middle of his living, suspiciously observing every little detail in the tasteful room. The man closed the door and stood behind him. Even though Kurt could feel his gaze on him, he delayed turning around to face him.

The apartment was huge; two large leather couches sat in a corner with a large wooden behind them. There was one light, giving off a low warm glow from the corner behind the chairs. To his left was a long dresser with a large screen television hanging on the wall above it.

It was hands down the nicest place he had ever been invited in to.

"I'm Sebastian," he introduced himself from behind. "How are you this evening?" he asked, his voice only solidifying the confident vibe Kurt got from his clothing.

Clearing his throat, he finally turned around to face his fate.

"Marvellous this evening, I'm honored to be welcomed into your home," as soon as the words left his mouth, he found himself flustered all at once.

Sebastian chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you could make it." Sparkles lit up his eyes like little fireworks as he smiled and walked over to the wine. "Would you like a glass?" he offered.

"I'm not old enough." Kurt blushed, and searched the room for a distraction, wanting to look anywhere but at him. The television was off, but he could hear some classical music playing quietly, even though he couldn't see a stereo anywhere. When Sebastian moved, his scent wafted around Kurt, his very presence making his cock twitch.

"Elizabeth, I don't think one drink in a hotel room will hurt you," he said, pouring two glasses. "And I promise not to tell anyone." He winked, handing him one of the glasses of red wine before walking to the chair behind him.

With no pretense, Kurt put the goblet to his lips and made sure to maintain eye contact as the red wine stained his lips and he sipped casually, enjoying the warmth of the alcohol in his throat. For a second he waited for it to work its magic and calm his nerves. Exhaling heavily, he put the glass down next to the ice bucket, flipped his long hair over his shoulders and turned around.

Leaning back, Sebastian's long legs stretched before him. He was sitting on the edge of the leather couch in the corner of the room. At some point, he had unbuttoned a few more of buttons on his shirt, the open collar exposing delicious looking dark skin.

"We should go over the rules, first and foremost," Sebastian said with an air of formality.

Kurt nodded.

"Okay, if you are uncomfortable at any time during the night, let me know and I will stop immediately." He said sternly.

"Seems fair enough,"

"I've already discussed payment with Karofsky. I get you for the whole night, sometime in the morning." He paused, eyes roaming his body before licking his lips. "And I get to have my wicked way with you." Sebastian grinned.

"Yes," Kurt responded. "But if you want me to fuck you that will be extra."

"I know," Sebastian waved his hand dismissively. "I want you to be comfortable here, Elizabeth….Just know that you can ask me for anything. I am here at your disposal. We are both making a business transaction so please think of me as your – employer, and it is my obligation to make sure you're well taken care of."

"Thank you," Kurt said honestly. "That's very kind of you,"

Sebastian smiled. "So….No or red is your safe word; I figured we can just keep things simple. And if you get hungry or need a break let me know and we'll stop."

"Yes, thank you very much."

"Alright... How about we move along?" he suggested, spinning the red liquid around the glass as he twirled the stem between his fingers.

Poised, he stood in front the man, left hip gutting out with a seductive expression. Since he was being paid by the hour, it made sense for them to get things moving. Luckily for him it wasn't some seedy dark alley, but a nice and comfortable home.

"What would you like?" Kurt asked, innocently coiling his finger in his hair.

"Go stand in front of the table," Sebastian demanded, eyes ominous and calculating.

Doing as he was told Kurt stood with his back facing the man, in front of the large mahogany table. It looked firm and sturdy, also it had the great detail of various images carved into it.

"Strip,"

The command sent shivers down his spine and he felt himself blush. Trying to maintain self-assurance, he slowly took off his arm length white gloves and then peeled off the red silk satin dress stepping out of it in nothing but a matching crimson thong and bra. Reaching behind his back he unclasped the bra, allowing it to fall to the ground. He knew Sebastian would have a kink for the heels so he left them on.

"Place your hands palms down on the table,"

Kurt complied, making sure to stick his perky ass out as he slightly leaned over.

"Yes, just like that,"

While his back was turned he heard the sound of footsteps approaching and for a minute he tensed. He could almost feel Sebastian's hungry gaze eagerly roamed up and down his body. Kurt knew he was thinner than most boys his age, but that didn't mean he didn't have good assets; mainly his ass and cock. Those were his prized money makers.

As he stood behind him, Kurt could literally feel his chest heaving. Thrilled he was affecting Sebastian, he smirked to himself.

There was one more article of clothing left; Kurt's panties had yet to be taken off.

"All of it," Sebastian reminded him in a voice rich of desire. With a curt nod, Kurt tugged the delicate piece of fabric down and kicked them off. His cock bobbed with every movement, standing out, erected from his frail body.

Completely naked, he stood before him, his cheeks flushed with the heat of Sebastian's appreciative stare while he continued to stroke himself, only now his hips were making the slightest thrusting motions.

"Exquisite."

His one word said so much.

Confidence began to flow through him, and even though he could still feel the red of his cheeks at Sebastian's words, he kept his eyes on him.

"Bend over and place your right knee on top of the table,"

Leaning down Kurt earnestly did what he was told, letting his knee rest against the wooden table, feeling strange being bend at that odd angle. With his back still facing Sebastian he couldn't see the man's face, but still he felt exhilarated.

"Such a work of beauty, Ms. Hummel. Do you spread these beautiful cheeks for all your clients?" Sebastian voice vibrated in his ear.

"No,"

"No, what…?"

"No, sir,"

He chuckled. "I know for a fact that's a lie….After tonight you won't want anyone else…Trust me. I'm going to abuse that hole of yours." Sebastian's hands gripped his ass cheeks tightly, massaging the globs vigorously.

"I am yours for the night sir," Kurt replied panting slightly.

"Damn right," Sebastian hissed opening the bottle of lube and spreading it all over his fingers. "Elizabeth, tell me, how many notes can you hit with that beautiful voice?" His slicked and wet finger slipped into his puckered entrance easily as Kurt gave a greedy moan.

"You didn't answer my question, Ms. Hummel…" Sebastian grunted, gliding another finger in.

"Ugh….Notes only heard by dogs sir," Kurt moaned.

He laughed deeply. "That's a shame…I guess I'll have to listen closely,"

Slithering a third finger in, Kurt nearly tensed at the burn but relaxed his body. Sebastian was one of the most gentle Johns he had ever had, and at least he took the time to prep him. Most of the other guys couldn't have care less if he was in discomfort.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

"Yes, are you ready to fuck me?"

"Very much so….." Sebastian smirked. The sound of his pants falling down to his ankles with only one movement and his shirt being throw casually across the room made Kurt shudder in anticipation. By the way Sebastian's clothes fit him, he could tell that he was in even better shape than he had first given him credit for. Certainly, _fucking_ sexier than the middle-aged potbellied men he was used to seeing pant over him. Sneaking a glance over his shoulder he caught Sebastian's solid frame, built like a swimmer; his six-pack rippling under his beautifully naturally sun-kissed skin as he walked towards him.

Sebastian lowered his hips onto Kurt's as he gripped his waist tightly, before gliding his erection between his legs. They touched for the first time, sending a surge of pure bliss through Kurt's entire body. It came as surprise when he felt how moisten Sebastian's cock was, and he realized he must have slicked it generously with lube. He moaned deeply; he had never fucked for the sheer pleasure of it, it had always been a means to an end, or against his will.

Whining at the sensation of their slickened cocks sliding together, Sebastian ground his hips into Kurt's frantically. Suddenly he was grabbing Kurt's head, twisting it roughly towards his mouth and thrusting his tongue between his sweet pink lips.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmured just before his tongue entered Kurt's eager mouth. The slow, sensuous circles were driving Kurt crazy as his hands gripped Sebastian ass, holding the man close to him so he could thrust up into his hips.

"You want me to fuck you, Elizabeth?"

Through Kurt's parted mouth escaped constant groans as he returned Sebastian's passion with equal force. "Yes, fuck me…please."

Sebastian leaned over towards the table and grabbed a condom. After opening the condom, he slipped it over his erection, his hands then spread lube around his length before he drizzled some on Kurt's ass as he spread his ample cheeks with one hand while he guided his cock into Kurt's ass.

Sebastian towered above Kurt, powerful, assertive, his jaw clenched as his cock slowly pushed through the tight muscles. At the intrusion, a hiss escaped Kurt as Sebastian cringed and clenched his eyes. He paused, his hands gently running up and down Kurt's back and stomach.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Yes sir," Kurt gritted out.

After a few deep breaths, Kurt nodded, and Sebastian began to slowly push into him until he was fully seated. Balls to balls he remained, once again waiting for Kurt's body to adjust to the intrusion before he finally began pumping in and out of him in a steady rhythm.

As his cock bounced with every one of Sebastian's powerful thrusts, the table propelled forward. Kurt gripped the furniture until his knuckles were white, desperately trying to hold onto it. For a second he admired Sebastian's skilled movements above him. Strong hands gripped his thighs, his fingers digging into Kurt's flesh to keep his ass pressed tightly to him as he continued to assault his hole with his hard cock.

"Stroke your cock," he ordered.

That was one order he was hesitant to follow. Fucking was about getting the Johns off, not him. If he even got the slightly bit aroused, it was a miracle. But with Sebastian he was as hard as a fucking rock, dying to feel his own hand, but it wasn't what he was being paid for.

Sensing Kurt's reluctance, he spoke again between gasps of breath. "This isn't just…for me…." With those words, Sebastian eagerly gripped Kurt's cock in his hand, tightening his fist immediately, and began stroking it in time with his thrusts.

Pushing his head back into the table, and using Kurt's shoulders as leverage, Sebastian lifted Kurt's ass higher, allowing Sebastian to penetrate him deeper.

"Fuck me deeper." Kurt grunted, panting harshly.

Sebastian let loose a growl and thrust forward hard and fast, his cock hitting a spot deep within Kurt.

"Oh, fuck," Kurt groaned. "Yeah….right there…..harder."

"You want me to fuck you hard, you like my cock filling up your ass, don't you?"

"Fuck, yes."

"So fucking tight, all mine!"

"Oh, fuck." Kurt's hands nearly lost its grip on the edge of the table when he felt his balls tightened. The air became thin, his vision blackened; it was like he was being transported to another realm. White hot electric shocks slashed through his entire body, making his cock jerk and pulsate with streaming hot liquid as his climax hit him in full force. "I'm cumming," He screamed.

"Fucking cum for me," Sebastian encouraged, squeezing the swollen head of his cock just as it erupted with milky hot cum, shooting it over Kurt's own chest and stomach. With a wanton grunt, he slammed into Kurt one last time before collapsing on top of him, his hips bucking sporadically as he rode out his orgasm.

While Sebastian lay on Kurt, his body periodically quivering, Sebastian ran his hands soothingly up and down Kurt's back, placing a kiss on Kurt's silk sweaty skin before moving his lips tenderly over his.

"Time for clean up," Sebastian announced after a few moments of heavy breathing. Sliding his soften cock out of Kurt's ass he tore off the condom and tossed it into the garbage.

For a second Kurt wasn't exactly sure what to do now since he's never spent an entire night with one of his clients before.

"Come," Sebastian said, reaching out his hand. "Shall we retire to the bedroom?"

Fixing his jarred wig Kurt nodded and followed him towards the bedroom, wincing with each step as his heels clicked on the hardwood floor.

"Those are so incredibly sexy," Sebastian said taking a moment to admire them. "You can put them back on when I fuck you again…For now you can take them off."

Nodding slowly, Kurt bent over to take off the aching stilettos, gliding his foot out of them and onto the floor. When he was finished, he put them near the side of the bed and waited for Sebastian to tell him what to do next.

"You can lie down." Sebastian said gesturing to the bed. "I'm just going to get something to clean you up with," he disappeared into a large bathroom before reappearing with a wash cloth. Lying down, Kurt waited as his employer tenderly wiped the cum off his thighs and stomach, slowly caressing every inch of his body.

"You really are exquisite, Elizabeth," He whispered.

"Thank you,"

"Now sleep," He said, pulling Kurt's flushed body against his chest.

Kurt bit his lip, but didn't respond and after a few minutes he heard Sebastian's breathe even out. Thinking back, he couldn't believe he was in one of the most expensive apartments in New York with the most gorgeous guy he's ever laid eyes on. For once in his life he felt safe, like he didn't have to fear when he was with Sebastian. For the first time in a long time, Kurt allowed himself to feel at ease, calmness sweeping over his mind as he went to sleep.

The next morning Kurt was fully fed, having been served a seven course breakfast by Sebastian and the cook he had on call. The initial awkwardness of the night faded away after being thoroughly fucked three times into the mattress by his employer.

He stood at the front door, shyly looking down at his winkled dress, holding his white gloves in one hand. Sebastian's green aqua eyes looked him up and down, in similar fashion to how he had when Kurt had first entered the room several hours before.

"Thank you, dearest Elizabeth. For everything." Kurt could feel the warmth of the hand Sebastian put on his shoulder through his thin shirt.

"Thank you," Kurt nodded graciously. How does one go about saying good night to a John? He was used to opening the car door and getting out before they had even caught their breath. This long goodbye shit was new territory for him.

"I've never requested the presence of an escort a second time, but I think I might just put you on a standing order." His hand moved to Kurt's neck, spreading the warmth there. "I would love to _see_ you again," he chuckled, his thumb caressing his puckered lips.

"It would be my pleasure to be…_seen_again," Kurt returned his banter.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth." Leaning in, he kissed him one last time. "Until next time,"

"Goodbye, sir—I mean, Sebastian," Kurt said, finally addressed him by name. He opened the door and walked through, hearing the soft click and the deadbolt slide behind him.

Inhaling deeply, Kurt walked towards the elevator, realizing he had survived his first night. Not only had he survived, he had enjoyed myself, three times actually. And for once in his life, he didn't feel used. Of course he realized he had been used; as Sebastian said he provided a service, and the man had used that service. However, it felt different.

Kurt could be used by him anytime.

Grinning, he made his way down to the lobby and out through the revolving door to the waiting Town Car. Opening the door he slowly slid into the plush leather seats and settled in.

"Did you have a good evening, Ms. Hummel?" Charles asked him, glancing over his shoulder and taking in Kurt's well—worn appearance.

"Just peachy,"

Charles smirked before pulling out of the parking space and onto the road. Sighing, Kurt sat back in the leather sit, imagining how different his life would have been if he hadn't met Karofsky. Would he be on the street hustling for food? A beep from his phone brought him out of his musing.

_Saturday and Sunday booked for Sebastian Smythe. Well done. –K _

Kurt grinned. Last night he made at least seven hundred dollars, since he knew Karofsky charged his clients by the hour. All at once he felt giddy, excited and….dirty? But he just shrugged it, because in the end a John was a John, no matter how much money they had. Turns out Elizabeth was a hit and Kurt realized that it was much better than trying to be himself; most gay men had a kink for cross dressing.

Charles pulled up in front of the apartment building he was staying at, already bought and paid for by his new boss. Everything in this world seemed too good to be true, like something out of a horrible fucked up dream, but nonetheless here he was; dressed up to the nines in the finest clothes money could buy, living among the rich. The driver stopped at the entrance, got out and went to hold the door for him.

In this very moment, Kurt felt incredibly powerful; as if he could own the world and nothing could touch him. This new life would bring him success and wealth and maybe, after he made enough money, he'd be able to get out of prostitution and find a real job. Charles opened the door for him as he stepped out, fixing his dress and hair.

"Thank you," Kurt said, smiling softly.

"You're welcome Ms. Hummel," Charles replied. "I'll see you next week."

Nodding, Kurt bypassed him and walked towards the apartment building that was ten times larger than his old one. On his way inside he saw a man strumming his guitar idly, the case was left open so that people could drop their change inside. The stranger's voice was gentle, contemplative; almost as if he was in his own little world, playing his music, and everyone else just happens to be giving him money for it. There was something about him that made Kurt stop and really get a good look at the guy. Undoubtedly the man was probably homeless, but that didn't stop Kurt from noticing the disarray of wild curls surrounding his face, or his thick beard. Taking out his small D&G purse he took whatever change he had and dumped it into the guitar case.

The man glanced up with the most amazing hazel-green orbs he's ever seen, and then nodded appreciatively. Kurt winked before turning around and strutting back into the building. He had never given to the poor before but it felt good, cause it meant he could afford to.

Being a porcelain doll did have its perks.

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**A/N: I thought I'd try a cross dressing Klaine fic:) A big thanks to my Beta ElleA26It for editing this chapter. Ya'll know I like my fics dark so should I continue? **


	2. September 5th, 1989

**Warning: This fic contains violence, sexually suggestive themes, homosexuality, cross-dressing, bisexuality, graphic violence, drugs, prostitution, homelessness and transexuality.**

**Please read with caution.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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_Porcelain Dolls_

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_September 5th__, 1989_

Being a porcelain doll meant that you were breakable.

Kurt winced, touching the ugly purple discolouration forming on his left eye. Staring into the full length mirror Kurt felt a tear trickle down his bruised cheek.

It was Friday night, and he was late meeting his client. Slipping the blush from his compact he applied generous amounts of it over the tender skin. Last night had been absolutely horrifying and he didn't particularly want to think about it, but his brain seemed to want to dwell on those grotesque images. Pulling out a cherry lipstick, he was careful to avoid the swollen part of his bottom lip, dabbing in on carefully. Fixing his thick curly hair wig for the umpteenth time that night, he deemed himself acceptable to leave the house. Bending over his small stool at his vanity table Kurt laced up his six inch black leather boots. Once finished, he stood up smoothing out his neon pink short dress and rearranged his cleavage, because it had dipped incredibly low. Snatching his purse form the table, he took once last look in the mirror, silently praising the smoky alluring eye shadow that covered all the previous bruising.

After a minute Kurt left his apartment deciding not to linger too long in front of the mirror, because although he looked flawless, sometimes, being a porcelain doll wasn't actually a good thing. As he walked out of the apartment he saw Charles waiting for him down the street and he waltzed towards the Limo.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Charles greeted holding the door open for him.

Muttering his reply, he slid into the back seat, eager to get this over with. Checking the address on his phone he sighed when he saw that it was in near Manhattan Island, around the richer suburban areas of New York.

_S. Smith, don't fuck this up or else there will be consequences- K_

Swallowing thickly, Kurt was well aware of the consequence Karofsky was referring to; he had been on the blunt end of them last night when he dared to refuse one of his clients. Gazing out of the window Kurt breathed deeply, trying to calm the fear growing in his chest. At least when he was on the streets he didn't have to worry about reporting back to anyone, although he wasn't making a quarter of the money he was making now, even if he didn't owe half his commission to Karofsky. Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been like if he had just stayed on the streets; sure, the Johns were dangerous and he was essentially homeless, but that didn't bother him half the time. It wasn't until he realized how truly horrible humans could be that he did understand that this John, the one he used to consider his golden ticket out of that life, was actually shackles into a newer, more painful existence.

"We're here, sir," Charles said as he pulled up in a large driveway.

The house was a mansion; white granite stone of cylinder pillars and large steps leading up to the red door like a beckoning light. It was the biggest house he'd ever seen in his whole life, and he couldn't even allow himself to bask in the grandeur, because he knew that inside someone was waiting to use and abuse his body. Charles opened the door for him and he reluctantly stepped out, forcing a smile on his face.

"I'll pick you up at three am sharp," Charles said. "It's only for a few hours," He added with a soft voice. But they both knew that three hours was more than enough time to lose your sanity.

Nodding, Kurt walked slowly on his heels, careful not to slip, and in no time he found himself standing in front of the looming red door. Ringing the doorbell he heard it chime throughout the house, echoing off the walls, before the door swung open, revealing a slightly drunk, fat balding man.

"You're late," The man grumbled, roughly pulling Kurt into the house. "This is the last time I call from this escort company," He mumbled as his filthy eyes started trailing up and down Kurt's body. "Well, we don't got all night, girl. Strip,"

"We should discuss—"

"I've already paid well in advance, there is nothing to discuss. I get to have you anyway, which way I want, and when I say strip, you better fucking strip," The man snarled.

Kurt wrinkled his nose at the stench wafting off his breath; a heavy mix of Scotch and Tequila was enough to make his stomach turn in knots. Disregarded the fact that this man was fat, with a large round pudgy belly, receding hairline and angry caterpillar eyebrows, Kurt swallowed his disgust. Straightening his back, Kurt needed to gain control of the situation. Tonight he wouldn't allow his emotions to get the best of him. Throwing the man a teasing smirk, he trailed his fingers up and down his shirt which was drench in a foul smell of sweat.

"Now, now is that the way to treat a lady?" He purred.

The man stared at him questionably for a minute.

"I aim to fulfill your needs. You are going to have to learn some manners, am I clear Mr. Smith?"

"Crystal," He mumbled in response.

"Good," Kurt walked towards the chubby man, placing his index finger under Mr. Smith's double chin. "Now, shall we go up to the bedroom so that I can give you a night you'll never forget?"

"Yes," Mr. Smith said eagerly, his sausage fingers gripping Kurt's backside.

Kurt swatted his hands away. "Uh, ah, you must promise to do everything I say or else…" He trailed off. "Now, show me to the bedroom."

Three hours later Kurt stumbled out of the house, very keen of getting home and washing the horrible smell out of his clothing and desperately brushing his teeth until he bled. Of course Mr. Smith wasn't the worst John he'd ever had, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. But somehow, a closeted man living in the suburbs felt so much _dirtier_.

Charles held the door open for Kurt as he hastily got in, scrambling into the leather seat as if his life depended on it. The ride home was pretty much the same as the ride there; uneventful, and as they finally pulled up to his apartment Kurt didn't wait for Charles to open the door and just got out himself, nearly running into the building. Once was he safely inside his condo he tore off the wig, then frantically the dress, followed by the stubborn boots that refused to budge. Fully naked, he stood in front of his full length mirror, wanting to tear his skin off. In his mind greedy hands had touched him, defiling his delicate and unblemished skin.

Walking into the bathroom he ran the bathwater as he hurriedly brushed his teeth, only satisfied when his gums bled into the sink. As he finished, he stopped the water and easily slid into the bathtub. It was boiling hot and he watched his skin flush bright red, but he did nothing; he just endured the scalding, because deep down he felt he deserved it. On rare occasions his mind would drift back to happier times, when his father was alive and they were living in their old house back in Lima, when baking, Vogue magazines and finding a boyfriend were the most complicated aspects of Kurt's life. Now, there was nothing left; his father was dead and everything else was lying in ruins. After an hour he crawl out of the tub, wrapped a woolly bathrobe around his body and went straight to bed. On these particularly nights Kurt was grateful that he had at least something soft and warm to sleep, and even something as miniscule as that was taken for granted by most people in the world.

oOo

When he awoke the next morning he felt refreshed and well rested. The sun was shining through his window, and although it was September, the weather looked absolutely divine, so he considered taking a walk through Central Park. Stretching his limbs, he went towards the kitchen and made omelets for breakfast while watching the Food Network; he found a fabulous recipe that he simply needed to try, so he began writing down a list of ingredients he'd need from the grocery store and the farmers market. Taking his time he showered then dressed in a simple long sleeve shirt, blue jeans with a beige blazer, and quickly styled his hair. Grabbing his phone he noticed that it peeped, signally a message.

_Saturday night at 8pm 'till Sunday morning 10 am booked by Sebastian Smythe- K_

Kurt tried but in the end he couldn't hold back the smile playing on his lips. Since the first night he had spent at Sebastian's house, he would never admit it, but he had felt so alive; Sebastian had treated him like _a human_, instead of a play thing. It was certainly not a surprise he was booked again, and all of sudden, Kurt couldn't wait until that evening. Shoving his wallet and phone into his back pocket, he walked out of his apartment, locking the door behind him.

It was a very nice day, and a lot of people were taking advantage of it, so the streets were busier. Kurt took his time shopping; buying all the essentials for his brand new dish. When he went to the farmers market, he couldn't resist buying some salmon, as it was on sale, along with squid and some herbs. The cheese was exquisite, so he also purchased some feta, fresh fruits and vegetables. On his way home he nearly skipped content with having some normalcy back into his life before he had to put on those wigs and become Elizabeth again. As he passed an alleyway, he heard the unmistakable sounds of grunts and pleads, and although the voice was frail, it was enough to make him stop and want to investigate the scene. Kurt knew he wasn't the most intimidating person, but he also knew what it was like living on the streets and there was no way he could, in good conscious, leave someone who was in need of his help. Carefully, he approached a group of men surrounding a wide eyed boy and without thinking, he charged forward.

"Hey! You!" Kurt yelled, approaching the guys who started to take off, running in the other direction, when they saw him coming. Panting softly, he approached the man who was staggering to his feet, clutching his stomach and the side of his head. There was a large gash at the side of his head, bleeding profusely, along with a blackened eye and busted lip.

When the kid looked up, Kurt felt the wind get knocked out of his stomach; the boy in front of him was uncommonly beautiful and it went beyond any superficial splendor that he's ever known. It was the same man he'd seen outside of his building numerous occasions, strumming his guitar, singing softly to bystanders, begging for change in the same ratty clothing.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked, stepping towards him.

"I'm fine," The guy grunted. "Now run along, you've done your good deed for the day,"

Kurt eyed him skeptically, watching as he nearly fell over trying to hold himself upright. "You're not okay,"

"No shit, Sherlock," He snarled, pushing Kurt's hands away. "Listen, I don't need any more charity, I was just on my way to the shelter—"

"It's closed," Kurt answered automatically. "It's after four, so you missed the last call,"

"Shit," He cursed, running his hands through his unruly hair.

The devastation that crossed the man's face was all _too_ familiar. He could recall nights the when he had missed the last call and was scared shitless because spending a night on the streets was much more terrifying than anything else. Kurt stood there awkwardly, watching the emotions play out before his eyes.

"You need to get cleaned up," Kurt said. "I have some supplies at my place you're welcome to come,"

"No, thank you."

"Fine," Kurt rolled his eyes, ready to leave the snotty jackass exactly where he found him, but instead he paused. "I guess you'll be sleeping in doorways tonight, or better yet on one of the park benches, at least until the police find you."

The boy winced, but didn't say anything else.

"I'm not going to hurt you, so just take my fucking help while I'm still offering it," Kurt held the boy's gaze sternly; this was one thing he wasn't backing down on.

After a few moments, he nodded.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, he nearly gagged from the stench, but he managed to keep a straight face and help the man, using his body to support his weight. They walked slowly, the guy wincing at every step. When they got inside the apartment build, a few heads turned to stare at them and the manager looked like he wanted to comment on it, but Kurt fixed him with a hard glare. Very slowly, they managed to make their way up to his condo. Opening the door, Kurt put his groceries down, and told the man to go into the kitchen while he got his First Aid supplies from the bathroom.

Any normal person would feel uneasy having homeless strangers in their house, but Kurt wasn't one of them. He knew how to handle himself in a fight, and this injured guy didn't seem like much of a threat. When he returned, he noticed the man was seated cautiously at the table trying not to touch anything, clearly stifling his curiosity. Kurt grabbed a cloth, a small bowl of water and some disinfectants, and began to clean the open wound. They did it in silence; nothing but the cloth splashing the water was heard in that apartment. When the cut was cleaned, it didn't look so bad; in fact it was quite superficial. But the black eye was something else entirely.

"You'll have to keep some ice on it for now," Kurt muttered, gently cleaning the area around it. "I can give you some Advil for the pain, but that's all I have right now,"

"Thank you," The men said seriously, his eyes were wide and so appreciative that Kurt didn't doubt his sincerity.

"Pshh," Kurt said, waving his hand dismissively. "It was honestly nothing—"

"Blaine…." The man interrupted. "My name's Blaine,"

"Right, well, during the days I'm Kurt."

Blaine smiled. "What?"

"At night I transform into Elizabeth," Kurt said with exaggerated hand gestures.

"So what, you dress in drag?" Blaine asked. "That's pretty cool."

Kurt laughed. "I guess you could say that. Now, I was just about to make dinner. I found this absolutely magnificent recipe I just have to try, care to join me?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't possible—"

"Nonsense," Kurt said. "I won't have you leaving here hungry."

Blaine's stomach growled angrily.

"See, someone else agrees with me," Kurt said. "Come on, you peel and I'll bake."

"Alright," Blaine stood, washed his hands and they began cooking together.

It started off in silence, but then Kurt turned on the Food Network and Blaine began commenting on the show that was on. When the atmosphere loosened up around them, they spoke freely about what shows they liked and dislike, not to mention what shows should be cancelled and the ones that should have never been aired.

"Say yes to the dress," Blaine laughed. "It's a horrible show, not even worth watching."

"Oh, come on, are you telling me you aren't even the least be curious if the girl does say yes to the dress?"

"They almost always do, so there's hardly any suspense."

"That's not true, sometimes they say no."

"Rarely," Blaine scoffed, placing some peeled potatoes into the boiling pot on the stove. "All I'm saying is that they should make it way more suspenseful, like maybe the bride is getting married underwater to a Dolphin and needs a waterproof, oxygen dress, or something."

"Because they have a bunch of those lying around." Kurt muttered.

Blaine laughed and to Kurt, it seemed like the most genuine sound he had ever heard. "A guy can dream, can't he?"

They locked eyes for a moment, before Kurt turned away blushing. He wished Blaine wouldn't notice the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach every time he looked at him.

In no time the food was ready and they had been discussing various musical and movies genres they both enjoyed. Kurt found himself wanted to stay and learn more about the curious man in front of him who spoke eloquently about musical theatre, his passion for Broadway and the arts.

"Wow," Blaine said after he finished his last bite. "That was so amazing, I've never had grilled Salmon like that, and the lemon sauce was superb, Kurt."

"Thanks," Kurt answered shyly. "It was my Dad's favorite, but I just wanted to try it out with another recipe."

"I can't thank you enough," Blaine replied. "And I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk when we first met—"

"I understand. You never know who you can trust these days," Kurt said, then casually his eyes slide over to the clock and he saw it was nearly after five. "Listen, I've got to go to work at six."

"Oh, alright," Blaine said, his eyes falling to the floor. "I'll clean up and be on my way—"

"Well, I mean," Kurt stuttered. "You're welcome to stay the night if you want….I have a spare room and I won't be back until tomorrow—"

"I really can't impose any longer—"

"It's no imposition, really—"

"I think it would be better if I just leave—"

"Blaine," Kurt said sternly. "This isn't up for debate…I'd feel better if you would just stay. And plus, you can clean up, have a bath and just relax for the night."

Blaine stared at him. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Kurt said, then stood from the table. "I have to get dressed, but please make yourself at home, and you are welcome to borrow any of my clothing or use my washing machine to clean yours,"

"I-I don't know what to say…Nobody has ever…I mean, thank you," Blaine flushed, trying to articulate his gratitude.

"Any time," Kurt said, and then he disappeared into the bathroom.

Doing his makeup he smiled when he heard Blaine singing along to the radio in the other room; it was good to have someone here when he wasn't. A dark voice told him not to get too comfortable with Blaine being here; he knew it was unwise to get attached, but Kurt couldn't help it. They had only known each other a day, but Kurt felt like he has known him for a lifetime.

Applying his mascara, he decided to wear a tight black dress with the same ruby red heels as last time, because he knew how much Sebastian liked them. He wore a straight hair wig with bangs cut across in a short bob. Finishing the last touches, he wore a long golden chain with matching earrings. Looking in the mirror he checked his makeup, hair, and smoothed out the dress before finally exiting the bathroom. When he stepped into the kitchen, Blaine's jaw nearly dropped as he stared at the bombshell in front of him.

"Wow," He breathed. "You look fucking hot."

Kurt smirked. "Thanks honey. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Don't wait up."

Turning sharply, he walked out the apartment, red heels clicking against the floor boards. Knowing that Blaine was watching his retreating form made him feel more powerful than he's ever felt before and he purposefully swung his hips just so Blaine could enjoy the view.

oOo

"Elizabeth, wake up," the voice was soothing, calm, not husky and vulgar. Kurt inhaled deeply and smelled the clean scent of body wash and cologne, not body odor and bad breath.

Gasping, he bolted upright in the dark room, his heart racing as he glanced around and tried to figure out where the fuck he was. There were no rows of beds, no musty odor; instead, there was a hand on his arm, gently rubbing it up and down.

"You okay?"

"Yes, sorry," he apologized automatically. Internally, he was upset with himself, he hadn't had a nightmare in about a year, and there he was, having one when he was with a client. Not only did he let a weakness show, but it was about as unprofessional as one could be.

"Don't apologize," Sebastian whispered, his eyes bunched up in concern. "Come here," he requested, laying back down and pulling Kurt with him. Sebastian laid down placing his hand on Kurt's cheek, his fingers tangling in Kurt's hair. "Jesus, Elizabeth, you're shaking." Sebastian held him tighter.

"Sorry," Kurt apologized again.

Sighing heavily, Sebastian kissed his forehead. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head no. Those were memories he just wanted to forget. "I've been under some stress lately, and had a bad dream."

Strong fingers under his chin tilted it up. "Tell me."

"About the dream?"

"No, the stress. Tell me what's going on."

Kurt pulled his chin from Sebastian's grip and placed his cheek back over his heart, letting its strong beat sooth him. "I can't. It's not professional."

"Elizabeth," he chided. "Don't give me that shit. You've had my dick in your ass countless times, and you trusted me enough. I might pay to have you here, but I think we are beyond the need to keep it all professional, aren't we?"

Kurt remained silent as he was considering telling him. There was no way he could tell him about Karofsky's deal or how much money he owned him. No, that was a problem he had to deal with alone. But, Sebastian was unlike anyone he's had ever known. He was powerful, confident, well-spoken, had sharp wit and could be relentless if needed.

"Elizabeth….?"

Kurt lifted his head to looked Sebastian in the eyes. "It's hard for me. I've never had anyone to confide in before. I've always had to keep things to myself. This is new to me…friendship."

Grinning at Kurt's last word, Sebastian pulled him into a deep kiss. "Friends…I like the sound of that."

With growing confidence Kurt ran his long slender finger down his chest, circling his nipples several times. "Friends with benefits."

Laughing, Sebastian grabbed Kurt's wrist. "You're good, but I'm better. I know you are trying to distract me, but it won't work. Tell me."

Sighing, Kurt closed his eyes and blurted it out before he could stop himself. "I owe someone some money."

"Who?"

Kurt shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Tell me," Sebastian growled.

"My employer," Kurt said, tears gathering in his eyes. "I owe him a lot of money for getting me this job and keeping me safe."

Ashamed, he lowered his eyes and looked away, just waiting for Sebastian to react violently. However, he didn't. He sat on the bed, eerily silent, before turning his eyes towards Kurt's.

"Has he threatened you?"

With a lump in his throat, he shook his head. "Not yet." But he knew it was only a matter of time.

"Have you paid him anything?"

"No, I have about two thousand saved up, but he keeps adding interests. It's probably fucking six thousand by now. Even if I had it, I know that as soon as I pay him, he would come up with something else. He's not exactly an honest businessman like you." He chuckled.

Turning his head, he glanced at Sebastian. "It doesn't bother you that I worked the streets?"

"Should it?"

"It's not exactly an honorable profession," he said, picking at the bedspread. If he only knew some of the shit Kurt had seen, that he'd _done_. There was no way Sebastian would be sitting in the same room with him, much less the same bed.

"You did what you had to do to survive, you didn't give up. If you asked me, is very honorable."

Blushing, Kurt looked away. "You're not disgusted?"

Confidently, Sebastian stared at him. "Not at all. You and I are always safe, and even though Karofsky is a dirty low down hustler, he has all of his employees tested bi-monthly. It's one of the reasons I use his service." He kissed Kurt softly before pulling back. "Promise me something?"

Dropping his chin to his chest, Kurt looked up at him and nodded.

"Keep me updated, and…" he paused, forcing Kurt to look at him again. "You'll ask for my help if you need it."

Not only had he called himself Kurt's friend, but he was now offering help; both things were so foreign to him. Soon after, he felt the exact same butterflies form earlier in his stomach as he treaded waters of unknown territory.

"I will," Kurt agreed.

Smiling, Sebastian let his hand drop to Kurt's creamy white thigh, before slipping it easily inside his legs, languidly stroking his cock.

Leaning forward, he whispered, "Since we're both up…."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter and to my wonderful amazing beta ElleA26it for editing this chapter. This story will be very dark so please read with caution and there will be lots of Kurtbastian:p So let me know what you think! **


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